Casebook Halloween: The Case Of The Cursed Ship
by TalepieceUK
Summary: From The Casebook Of Madame Vastra. Returned to Earth but far from their home, Madame Vastra and her beloved companion Jenny Flint find themselves fighting the great evil in one of his many forms.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: The Case Of The Cursed Ship  
AUTHOR: Talepiece  
RATING: 12 cert.  
PAIRING: Vastra/Jenny  
SERIES: The Casebook Of Madame Vastra  
CONTINUITY: This is a one-off in lieu of a second volume in 2015. It continues directly from _The Case Of The Dying Machine_  
DISCLAIMER: Own them, I do not; sue me, please do not.  
CREDITS: This story is based on _The Wreck_ from the _Trail Of Cthulhu_ source book _Arkham Detective_.  
NOTE: This is an exception to my usual source material but I liked the idea and it fitted perfectly with where we left Vastra and Jenny in the last story. The upcoming (hopefully) Christmas story and the next volume will return to the usual format and sources.  
So much for the end of 2015 being better than the first half: my computer died part way through writing this! To get it out just about in time for Halloween, I've truncated the middle section but I thing it works (possibly better than the original structure) so I hope it's OK.  
As always, many thanks for the lovely feedback via FFnet and the TP site. It really is very much appreciated, especially with so many things going pear-shaped this year.  
POSTED: October 2015

* * *

Returned to Earth but far from their home, Madame Vastra and her beloved companion Jenny Flint found themselves fighting the great evil in one of his many forms. As always with such things, human greed and passion only serve to feed the danger but can trust and love overcome it?

Jennifer Strax Vastra-Flint.  
London, 1948.

* * *

 **THE ELDRITCH SEA**

"Madame? Where are we?"

Jenny's head moved slowly, still buzzing from the effects of the vortex manipulator. Images of thick grey dust swirled in her mind, mixed with the blue-black of the vortex and the rushing snap of their arrival.

And then it was replaced with a dark and stormy night. The ground at her feet rocked and a freezing spray of salty water rained down upon her. She shivered violently from the cold, then again from the screams that rang out around her.

Jenny turned and the images shifted. A far off voice called her name but she could not focus on it. Nor on anything else. All was the dark, lurching night and the screams. And then a sudden, terrifying image of teeth and scales and a wide, serrated blade looming above her.

"Jenny!" Vastra's sharp tone snapped Jenny back to herself. She shivered again and Vastra pulled her into a fierce hug. "You are cold, my dear," was said in a gentler voice.

The tone belied Vastra's fear. Her lover was pale and shivering as if caught in a winter storm. Vastra tightened the hold and whispered calming nonsense, afraid to let Jenny go. She had seen the young woman do remarkable things, far beyond anything Vastra would expect from such a fragile little human. But she had also seen the after effects, had tended to her near-comatose companion as she slept off her exertions. They could not afford such a reaction now.

Jenny shivered again but felt herself warmed by Vastra's strong arms around her and the gentle hands that rubbed at her back.

"Blimey," Jenny said with as much strength as she could muster, "Miss Peri was right, that thing does pack a punch."

Vastra said nothing for a long moment but continued to comfort her lover. Jenny could feel the tension in Vastra's back and reluctantly eased away.

"My dear?"

"Much better now. Promise," Jenny added to the doubtful look in Vastra's eyes. She cast the leather bracelet a baleful glare, "It's not very reliable either, is it?"

Vastra sighed deeply and returned her attention to their current location. As she turned, the floor lurched violently leaving them both fighting for their balance.

"We're not still in the hive, are we?" Jenny said.

Vastra reached out for Jenny's hand and took it, aware of Jenny's mounting panic. It took a great deal to trouble her usually unflappable companion. Her tongue flicked out to taste the air and Vastra shuddered against the assault on her senses.

"We are not, my dear. In fact," Vastra began but was interrupted by another violent lurch, "we appear to be at sea."

"Sea?" Jenny looked around and finally took in the low, damp wood of the walls around them and the heavy stench of bilge and rot, "At least it didn't dump us in it," she said with another glare at Vastra's wrist.

"I fear we may have been better off had it done so," Vastra said and turned for the small doorway, "Come, my dear, something is afoot."

"That'd be water, Madame," Jenny said, filthy water squelching beneath her boots.

Even Jenny had to duck to make it safely through the entrance and Vastra was forced to bend low. They stepped out into an equally low and dark corridor with similar doorways branching off it at regular intervals.

"The passengers quarters?" Jenny asked.

"Most certainly."

"Not much luxury. And this tub's falling apart."

Jenny reached for the battered, sopping wood at her side and gasped despite herself. Vastra turned back, then stopped in horror. Jenny lifted a reddened hand and stared at it.

"Jenny -"

"It's not mine," Jenny shook off her surprise, "It's on the walls, look."

Jenny wiped her hand on her tattered breeches as Vastra studied the stinking wood in the near-darkness.

"Scratch marks," Vastra's tongue flicked out once more, "and a great deal of blood."

"Scratch marks? Like something's been dragged along?"

"Not something, my dear," Vastra said and then continued their trek to the open hatchway that was barely visible ahead of them.

At each tiny doorway, Jenny poked her head inside. She could see little in the darkness of the low cabins. Each was barely more than a cell with a tiny cot and what little dunnage the size of the space allowed. The cots swayed wildly with the rocking of the vessel. There was no sign of any of the passengers themselves.

Just as they reached the rickety ladder to the hatch, the ship bucked and tumbled yet again. Vastra turned and covered Jenny with her own body, pressing them both into the cold, soaking wood. A great wash of sea water raced down from above, bringing with it stinking debris that settled in dark pools at the base of the ladder.

Vastra eased away and shook herself, dislodging a long strand of seaweed that had whipped at her back. Jenny sniffed and her face wrinkled, "We'll need to bathe for a month," she muttered before noticing that Vastra's attention was entirely on one of the pools of filth.

"Madame?"

"This detritus, my dear, it is from the seabed itself."

"And?"

"And even such a violent storm should not dredge up quite so much from quite so deep."

"You sure?" Jenny said as the ship rocked again.

"Quite. Now, shall we?"

Vastra indicated the hatch above before making her own, careful way up. She offered her hand down to assist Jenny but it was batted away.

Both expected to hear a loud cry of approbation but there was an eerie silence as they straightened up and looked around the deck. Above, a myriad of undamaged sails flapped in what could barely be called a zephyr and around them, the sea appeared oddly calm. Yet the ship itself bucked and lurched with increasing frequency. Spray flew up and cascaded over the decks, the sopping wood creaked loudly.

Out to sea the sky was an ethereal silver-grey but the ship itself was surrounded by an inky light that seemed to shift and dance. Further out there were hints of lights bobbing around that might be other vessels and farther still, a vague outline of what might be land.

"What the -" Jenny began but stopped as her eyes grew more accustomed to the strange light. "Madame?"

There was more flotsam fouling the deck, which ran deep with water as the vessel continued to tumble in the oddly calm seas. As it ran about their feet it was dyed red by the quantities of blood that stained the deck. There were more deep scratches too and plenty of signs of a struggle. But nary a sign of human - nor any other - life.

"Could it have been your cousins?" Jenny asked, referring to the creatures that she had spent time with while holidaying at Little Sundersley. It had been time enough for Jenny to come to understand the violence at the heart of the race, though they had never been anything more than indifferent to her own health.

Vastra straightened from her consideration of a thick splash of blood that stubbornly refused to be washed away and thought for a moment. Her tongue flicked out again and she shook her head.

"I think not, my dear. There is no sign of their presence."

"What then?"

Vastra hesitated and received a fierce glare from her companion in encouragement. "There are worse things, my dear, than my cousins."

"Bleedin' 'ell," Jenny muttered and renewed her study of the deck.

She shuffled a little further from the hatch, mindful of the rolling deck at her feet. Airships were a much more civilised form of travel, she decided with some feeling.

The scratches appeared to trail on towards the battered railing that ran around the edge of the deck, though the dulled metal was barely visible against the darkness that surrounded the ship. Jenny had seen great sailing ships on the Thames, though they were being replaced by modern vessels now and you didn't get to witness the great displays of pristine sails and scrubbed decks that some of her older relatives had described from their past. It was a shame as there was something quite inspiring in such a sight.

There was nothing inspiring about the sight around them. The whole thing made Jenny feel queer. The deck shifted again and she fought for her balance. She fell forward and reached out a hand to stop herself. As her fingers pressed deep into another length of scratched wood, her head was suddenly full of those same images; of scales and teeth; of screaming and blood; of a large, serrated blade rising above.

"Jenny," Vastra's hands closed around her and Jenny heard the urgent, "Jenny, please," from far away.

"Blades. Really big, nasty buggers with really big teeth," Jenny muttered as she returned to her senses.

"Indeed, my dear," Vastra said close to her, "that is certainly the sort of blade that made such pronounced splatter patterns. And how did you come by this knowledge?"

Vastra had been making a particular study of blood and the patterns it made when exsanguination of various sorts took place. Unusually for a naturally curious sort of person, Jenny had chosen to absent herself from such studies. She found it distasteful, Vastra knew, but accepted that it was as much a tool in their investigative work as Vastra's expertise with footprints.

Jenny shook herself, trying to dislodge the last of the images that lingered in her mind. They felt real, not like dreams or nightmares at all but like events that had occurred not too long ago. She glanced around the deck and paled yet further.

"I know what happened here, Madame. I don't know how but I know with all the certainty I can muster."

"Indeed," Vastra said doubtfully and then began carefully, "My dear, you have been through a great deal in recent times and have suffered a terrible attack. Do you not think -"

"No, I bloomin' don't," Jenny cut her off with another glare, "Whatever Miss Peri and that Doctor did, I felt champion when I got out of the funny white room. Well," Jenny allowed, "champion until all the other stuff happened, obviously."

"It is the 'other stuff' to which I refer."

Jenny considered the charge but shrugged it off, "No, Madame, I'm quite sure of it; I know what happened here and-"

She was cut off my a towering wave that rose up from the calm sea and lashed down upon the deck. The ship dropped out from beneath their feet and Vastra scooped Jenny into her arms before allowing them to roll with the tide, as it were. A guy-rope which had broken free of its staunch on one end offered some degree of security and Vastra grabbed for it and held on with all her might.

They swung from her tenuous grip as the water rolled back and forth on the deck. After what felt like hours the mass of water dissipated, most washed below decks via the gaping hatches. They lay entwined, Vastra maintaining her hold on the rope until all was still around them. Or as still as this cursed vessel would allow.

"I was just thinking that we could do with a bath," Jenny said from the vicinity of Vastra's armpit.

Vastra laughed despite herself, pleased to find her companion's sense of humour intact, if nothing else.

"My dear, are you injured?"

"I'm soaking is what I am," Jenny said, then, "and cold and sore and starving."

"But apart from that?"

"Quite well, thank you Madame. You?"

Vastra hefted them both to their feet and shook herself like an overgrown puppy. Jenny watched in amazement as the scales on her lover's face and neck flared open.

Vastra gave herself a cursory inspection before studying Jenny more closely. As she did so, she said "Certainly damp around the edges -"

"And in the middle too, no doubt," Jenny put in.

"- but refreshed, if nothing else." Vastra's white teeth beamed in the murky light before her face grew serious once more and she said, "Now, do tell me what you have ascertained."

"Not ascertained exactly," Jenny hesitated, "more seen. When we first arrived and just now too, I saw this thing," Jenny struggled for the words to describe her visions, "This big, weird thing with teeth and scales and things," She rolled her eyes at the limits of her vocabulary. "Anyway," she glanced around and found that they were now aft, close to the raised deck at the stern of vessel. It really was a very old sort of ship, Jenny thought but she said, "Anyway, these things - whatever they were - they had these big, sharp blades. They came up out of the sea, I reckon, and they dragged the crew and the passengers off. Madame?" Jenny added at Vastra's deliberately blank stare.

"I believe you are correct on every count, my dear," Vastra said when she had overcome her surprise. "And these visions, you have never had them before?"

"Never. And I'd be quite happy not to have any again, if you don't mind."

"I do not. Though, if you are not generally susceptible to such things" Vastra hesitated and Jenny finished for her.

"Then there's something causing them. And this too, I expect."

"Quite. Now," Vastra said in a stronger tone, "let us find what little shelter we may. That," she indicated the raised deck, "would be the quarterdeck, I believe, and so the Captain's Cabin should be just below."

"Aye, Aye," Jenny said and followed Vastra as she made for the cabin. As they went something glittering in the odd light caught Jenny's eye and she said, "Wait," before veering off their course to lean down.

Vastra stopped, watching Jenny carefully as she reached for something that appeared to be embedded in the sopping wood of the deck. The pitch had been gouged out at various points all along this particular area, as if someone had fought especially hard not to be taken. They had failed, it would appear - long tracks streaking towards the railing would attest to that - but fight they most certainly had. Vastra wondered if it might have been the ship's Captain. They were famously prone to staying with their vessels despite imminent doom.

"My dear?"

Jenny tugged at the object that had caught her attention, waggled it from side to side to open the gap that held it and pulled it free with a grunt of satisfaction. Jenny took a moment to consider the small, glittering piece and Vastra encouraged her with a flick of her hand.

"On my way, Madame," Jenny said as she clutched the object in her hand and hurried across the deck.

She joined Vastra just as her companion was yanking the large doors open. They had once been richly painted in black and gold with fine carving in an ornate style. But the rich colours only remained in scratched and faded patches and the ornate styling was barely discernible. The wood gave with a strange creaking sound and Vastra handed Jenny over the slight rise into the Captain's Quarters.

They stood, somewhat awed at the cabin beyond. Jenny shivered and Vastra pulled the now rickety doors closed behind them. The cabin ran the full width of the ship with broad, glazed windows across the whole. It would have been a decent space for a gentleman's private library and resembled the same despite the sloshing sea water and the signs of wear.

There appeared to a be a water closet of sorts tucked away to the right but the rest of the space was open. A small bed stood to one side with a dressing table and cabinets about it. There were chests and shelves holding the remains of books and papers, though many more had tumbled to the floor. There was a desk too, surprisingly large and well endowed with drawers, and a fine Captain's chair upended next to it.

The desk was surrounded by fallen books and papers, broken glass bottles and ink stains that were slowly being washed away by the shifting water. As they studied the room the ship lurched yet again and a heavy package fell from the desk, thumping down even upon the soaking wood at their feet.

The noise startled them both out of their thoughts and they made for the desk. Vastra reached down and lifted the package, shaking it away from them before unwrapping the heavy sail cloth around it. Inside, weighted with a slab of marble, was a logbook.

"You have a read," Jenny said and indicated the other side of the desk, "and I'll get those drawers open."

"An excellent idea."

Vastra set her feet wide to aid her balance and began to flick through the pages. Jenny righted the large chair and sighed in relief.

"My dear?"

"Fine, Madame, honestly," Jenny said, though it was a lie as the stinking water was soaking into her bones and the cold was slowing her movements. Leaving that unsaid, she asked, "Anything interesting?"

As Jenny rifled through the objects on and around the desk for something that would substitute for her much-missed lock-picks, Vastra began to read passages from the log.

"It would appear that this is a British vessel, though one long since in the service of the Americans."

"They thumped us once or twice. The Americans! At sea!" Jenny tutted and then gave a happy little "Lovely," as she came upon a paper knife that would serve her purpose.

"Indeed, my dear," Vastra said absently and then continued, "Most recently, the ship - the Star Of Mauritius, it would appear - was hauling cargo and passengers of the less discerning kind-"

"You can say that again."

"-around the coast of the United States."

Jenny interrupted once more, though her voice was muffled by the interposed desk as she bent low to attack one of the drawers, "And this time?"

"From New England to New York on the last leg of a lengthy tour. Started some few weeks after we left London," Vastra added with much relief and then paused as she flicked back through the pages before saying, "carrying a cargo of manufacturing equipment from a factory."

"What sort of equipment, Madame?"

"Really, my dear," Vastra muttered and receiving a baleful glare over the top of the desk, continued, "Machinery from a refinery or so I would assume from the names herein."

"I'm sure you're correct, Madame."

Vastra rolled her eyes, "The drawers? Anything of use?"

Jenny did not lift her head but gave a grunt of frustration and flicked her hand over the few items that she had added to the desk. There was a clutch of ink pens and three more bottles of ink, one full and two empty, a sheaf of loose paper and a small book of poetry. Poetry of the nautical kind, Vastra thought as she glanced at the title.

"Ha!" Jenny said accompanied by the scratching of a desk drawer being opened, "Blimey." She straightened up and carefully placed a handgun on the papers, "Not that it did any of the poor sods much good."

"Indeed not, though telling that the good Captain had no time to take up his firearm."

"Was he good, do you think?" Jenny said with a nod towards the logbook.

"Competent, certainly," Vastra allowed, "and most concerned by the excessive weight of the cargo. It would appear that the actual weight was somewhat less than the perceived effect on the ship itself."

"Something looked lighter than it actually was? The owners trying to get out of paying their fair share, do you think?"

"Possibly, though I am not convinced the captain thought so. It appears to have been a difficult journey this last leg; they experiencing appalling weather while other ships they met reported no such inconveniences. Is there anything else, my dear?"

Jenny looked back to the drawer, "As a matter of fact, there is Madame," and pulled out a notebook.

Vastra took it and placed the prettily decorated little thing atop the logbook. "His personal diary," she flicked through a few more pages, "written in the form of letters...to his wife perhaps?"

Jenny made to speak but the sea gave a great gasping screech and the ship pitched violently. Vastra tumbled and Jenny held on to the desk with what remained of her might as the chair fell away behind her.

"Vastra!" Jenny shouted as the raging subsided. She shivered, suddenly aware that a great quantity of sea water had lashed down on her back. Glancing behind her, she found much of the stern window missing to leave a gaping hole looking down upon the oddly calm sea.

Then the ship rolled and Jenny was sent tumbling to the other side. She reached out a desperate hand to steady herself, her fingers sinking deep into the sopping planks. Another vision struck, this one shrouded in the darkness of below-decks. A space crowded with trunks and crates; a large hatchway set into a newly installed dividing wall; green, heavily scaled hands attacking it with wide blades; and then something that scared the creatures, something that sent even these monsters back to the deep.

The vision ended and Jenny snapped back to herself to hear Vastra saying something in her native tongue that she was certain must be quite rude Jenny smiled, it was so rare to hear her lover driven to expletives.

She righted herself with the help of the desk, "Vastra? Are you alright?"

Vastra pushed herself up, taking her feet with the help of Jenny's outstretched hand. She shook herself and shivered, "I believe the correct term is 'Bracing', my dear."

"The correct term is wet and cold, Madame. You sure you're alright?"

Vastra smiled into Jenny's concerned gaze, "I would prefer to be off this vessel but, yes my dear, I am well enough. And you?"

"I'd be better without these visions."

"You have had another one?" Vastra looked at her lover but Jenny waved the concern away and so she added, "There is at least one lifeboat still aboard. I believe we are close enough to land to row ashore. Come, my dear, let us see."

Vastra made to leave the cabin but Jenny held her back. She couldn't believe she was going to say this but the words tumbled out despite her reservations, "No, Madame, we need to go to the hold."

"The hold?" Vastra stared accusingly, "What exactly have you seen, Jenny?"

"Down, er, stairs -"

"Below decks," Vastra corrected.

"Aye, well, down there somewhere," Jenny pointed to the soaking deck, "there's something that these green things were trying to get at."

"In the hold?" Vastra considered, "You believe this to be the source of these occurrences?"

"Reckon it might be, though I've no idea what we're looking for."

"But if we can we must find it, my dear. I cannot imagine what the human authorities might make of such a thing."

"I've no idea what we might either but I suppose you're right."

"Then to the hold," Vastra said, though she looked Jenny up and down before moving for the door.

"Lovely," Jenny muttered but she was already following. After a few steps, she turned back to the desk and reached for the handgun. Vastra stilled her hand and Jenny pulled back, "You sure we won't need it? Those creatures were down there before, trying to get through a door or something."

"I doubt it would serve much purpose," Vastra said and then lead them out to the deck.

The strange light was brightening into what might be the dawn further off but was simply a different kind of eerie here on the ship. With the slight lifting of the darkness came the discovery that not all of the ship's crew had been dragged overboard.

A little way forward, previously lost to their sight during the driving storm that had engulfed the vessel, stood the ship's wheel. It was one of the overly large, old-fashioned wheels that had been common a hundred years ago and more. Lashed to the spokes, held firm with stout nautical ropes, was a man's body. There was no doubt that the man was dead, his back was raw with the deep welts of a vicious attack.

"They tried to get through the storm, that's for sure," Jenny said.

"I will study the logbook when we have time," Vastra said, "Now, the hold in general or a specific hatchway?"

Jenny thought back to the vision, though she knew very little of such vessels, "I'd say it was a secret compartment in the hold, Madame. Looked like it was new and put there for a purpose."

"Perhaps to keep these creatures away from whatever it contains."

"Nice thought," Jenny huffed but she followed Vastra as her companion hurried to a hatch and dropped down inside.

It took a little exploration before they found their way to the correct part of the ship. Exploration that lead them to discover the crew's quarters with their old-fashioned hammocks swinging wildly and more passenger and officer cabins. Jenny insisted on looking into each and often darted a hand down to pick something up from the ground.

"My dear?" Vastra said, somewhat exasperated by the delays.

"We'll need dry clothes and the like. We'll have to," Jenny hesitated, "borrow something from the passengers. Money too and these might help," Jenny opened her hand to display a number of gold coins.

Vastra stopped, studying them as best she could in the dim light. They were of an unusual design, certainly not of any denomination Vastra had ever seen. They were thick and precisely circled and even tarnished, it was clear that they were gold.

"Miss Ada was right, you would make an excellent Gleaner."

Jenny grinned, remembering the woman who salvaged the detritus of the Thames, "Everyone needs something to fall back on, Madame."

Jenny deposited the coins in her already clanking pocket and they continued until they were clambering down the slippery ladder to the hold itself. The stench was awful now, blood and terror mixed with human filth and the sea bed. Both women paled, though neither could see well enough to witness the others discomfort.

They sensed it though and Jenny placed a hand on Vastra's back. Whether to calm or be calmed she wasn't sure. Vastra steadied herself and allowed her tongue to flick out and taste the rank air. She rocked back in reaction and her tongue snapped home.

"Perhaps you might check the crates, my dear, while I seek out this hidden room."

Jenny nodded and began to consider the cargo. It was mostly large wooden boxes, lashed down securely against the movement of the ship. Jenny knew enough to know that shifting cargo could sink even the most stable of vessels. She doubted the Star Of Mauritius had been all that stable before this business began.

All of the crates, large and small alike, showed the same marque, that of the Atlas Company. There were a few larger trunks too, the property of the passengers themselves, but they were pushed into the far corners of the hold. Despite being so well secured, some of the crates had shifted and there were signs that some had overturned. Whether that was from the harsh movement of the sea or by the hand of the creatures, Jenny wasn't sure until she approached just such a crate.

It had broken free of its binding and tumbled into the crate to its side, that had tumbled in its turn and the whole area was a mess of splintered wood and soaking straw. Much of the wood showed scratch marks and there were a few green scales caught on the sharp edge of one such piece.

Jenny reached down and rummaged through the wet straw until she withdrew an object. Brushing it clean, she found herself staring at quite the ugliest thing Jenny had ever seen. It was some sort of carving of a squat, toad-faced little fellow with an evil grin on its thin lips.

Jenny dropped it back on to the pile and kicked away some more debris to reveal three more such pieces.

"It's not just machinery, Madame," she called out. Receiving no reply, Jenny turned to find Vastra nowhere in sight. She fought back a wave of panic and added, "Vastra?" in a sharper tone.

"Here, my dear," Vastra's voice came low and muffled from somewhere on the other side of the hold.

Jenny shuffled her feet free of the packing material and picked her way through the cluttered hold towards the voice and the sounds of grunting that she could now discern. They came from a large stack of boxes set against what appeared to be the far wall of the hold.

"You found it then, Madame?"

Vastra's voice was strained as she said, "I did, though the entrance appears to require your remarkable skills."

"Most things do," Jenny said and then added, "Best get out the way then, eh?"

Accompanied by more grunts and the sounds of her lover burrowing free from beyond the pile, Jenny looked around for another substitute for her lockpicks. Should have kept that knife with me, she thought, but smiled when her eyes fell on a few long nails that lay a little way off.

Jenny reached down and plucked the nails from their bed of damp straw, fervently hoping that they were not what had originally kept the ship's sides attached. Two were thick, ill-wrought things that might very well have been shipwright's nails but one was much thinner and better made. It would do nicely in a pinch and this, Jenny decided as she looked around, was most definitely a pinch.

As if reading her mind, Vastra said, "Fear not, we will make land soon enough."

Jenny smiled at the mucky green face that appeared out of an opening low in the pile. Vastra struggled to free herself without disturbing the crates but finally pulled her legs clear and stood.

"Not sure it can be soon enough but lets get to whatever's causing all this," Jenny said and leaned down towards the narrow gap.

Vastra held her back and with a, "Allow me, my dear," began pulling the smaller boxes from the top of the pile. Slowly, she cleared a much larger channel for Jenny, who could now see the hatchway in what was obviously a newly positioned bulkhead.

"Why didn't you do that for yourself?"

Vastra considered the question and gave an embarrassed little shrug, "It did not occur to me."

"Daft bat," Jenny muttered and Vastra resolutely ignored.

Vastra stepped aside as her companion approached the door, dropped to her knees before the imposing barrier and set to work on the locks. They proved troublesome and engendered much dark muttering but soon enough Vastra heard the familiar grunt of triumph and Jenny rose to her feet.

Vastra beamed at her, "A true artist, my dear."

They forced the swollen door open. The ship gave a long, low moan in protest but the floor remained relatively stable and there was no sudden darkening or ominous fanfare. Jenny would not have been surprised by either.

Inside the temporary hold appeared much like that outside with crates of various sizes stacked and bound tightly. The binds here were not of rope but of chain and they were secured to the planks below with deeply embedded rings. It was dark, of course, but not nearly so dark as the women had expected. There seemed to be a strange crispness to the darkness, a light within it that filled the space and raised the hairs and scales of their necks.

The stench, however, was even worse and the air crackled with static. Jenny's face wrinkled and she looked to Vastra to find her lover's lips pursed determinately.

"You start over there, Madame," Jenny indicated a pile closer to the entrance and then further away, "and I'll start here."

They began searching and Jenny felt her skin tingling at the odd sensations that haunted the space. She could only imagine what Vastra's scales felt like and glanced back often to her companion.

"I am quite able to continue, I thank you," Vastra said without looking back and then, "All of these crates are marked as those outside, though with additional instructions to be shipped on to a Mr Henry Wilcox."

"Same here," Jenny said, checking a few boxes at her feet. She could barely shift the binds, much less open them but then she came across a pile of very strangely shaped items that had broken free and added, "Something here, I reckon."

Vastra joined her as Jenny hefted a piece of piping from its place amongst the pile. It was very different from any of the other items and bore no marks or instructions. Jenny tilted it one way and then the other, her skin tingling where she held the too-warm pipe. It was carefully sealed at both ends, though with each tilt there came a faint shuffling sound.

Vastra took the pipe and eased the stopper from one end. She slid out a heavily wrapped package and began to peal back the leather around it. The static grew worse and the strange crispness to the air began to glow. Jenny looked around nervously and even Vastra hesitated.

"Let's get on with it, eh?" Jenny said. She held her hands out to catch whatever was within as Vastra tipped the pipe up and pulled away the last of the wrapping. With a gasp of disgust, Jenny muttered, "Bleedin' 'ell that's ugly, " before she could stop herself.

The strange object was about the size of a newborn child and seemed to squirm in Jenny's hands like an infant, though it was made from a heavy green stone. As Jenny stared it's shape seemed to shift and warp...an elephant's head...a sea creature...something unknowable and shimmering with evil. As it changed, flecks of gold danced within and the weight increased and decreased in her hands.

Jenny felt herself being sucked into the thing, her vision blurring until the hold was shrouded in mist with Vastra's urgent words far, far away.

And then her vision cleared as if her mind had been thrown through the vortex. She was on a seashore, the water gently lapping at golden sand. A child was a little way off, reaching down for something that had washed up with the tide. Jenny wanted to scream a warning yet could do nothing but watch as the scene blurred and warped around her.

A church full of fevered worshippers; strange symbols daubed over the previously immaculate tapestries and statues; the villagers chanting in a strange tongue. Then the village itself, rank and decaying like its people; the fisherman's boats beached and rotting but the market stalls filled with bloated, black fish. And finally a priest back at the water's edge, a small, green statuette held in his hands, raised high above his head and then cast into the sea from whence it came.

The vision shifted as the object touched the water and Jenny's vision blurred once more. She was in a candlelit room, little more than a stone cell with a small wooden bureau and a stool. A monk sat and worked fervently over a beautifully illuminated manuscript. He was nervous, always glancing back to the door, his hands shaking despite his concentration. The door opened.

And Jenny was in a dark cavern, deep beneath the ground. Rivulets of brackish water wended through the dense rock as the path dropped ever down. Yet another priest but this one in strange vestments. He too carried the object, cradled in his arms like the most precious child in the world. He glanced over his shoulder and Jenny saw the odd shape of his face. It was as if he was not quite human in his features and as he moved she realised that he waddled.

There came a shout from further up the passage and the priest hurried as best he could with his shambling gait. More shouts and the light cast from a number of flambeaux soon followed. Jenny watched as a group of soldiers caught up with the man. They were British and wore recent, if not current, issue uniforms.

With the soldiers was a tall man in civilian clothes and a long cape who carried a sizeable handgun of some strange design. He called out to the priest and waved the gun at his back. His words were heavily accented and Jenny thought he was American. As he shifted his feet, Jenny saw that he had an old, tattered manuscript tucked carefully into his waistcoat.

The American raised his gun to fire but the priest lifted the object and it began to glow dangerously. There was a loud screeching sound and much shuffling and moaning from further down the passage. The soldiers hefted their rifles despite the limited space. There was the strange sound of paper fluttering through the air.

Another shift and there were scales and teeth and wide, serrated blades.

"Jenny! Jennifer!"

And then Jenny toppled into the safety of warm, strong arms.


	2. Chapter 2

See Part One for story details.

* * *

 **THE ELDRITCH SKY**

Vastra returned to their small lodgings to find her beloved companion still in a deep sleep. Deep but less troubled than it had been for the two days previous. Vastra leaned over the small, pale figure checking Jenny's pulse and temperature. Both were calming and with them Vastra was calming too.

She had been terrified as Jenny collapsed into her arms and it had taken her some considerable time to realise that the turbulence that had so buffeted the vessel had given way to the strange calm that surrounded it. With the realisation came the knowledge that they must find their way ashore as soon as possible. Vastra did not wish to harm any hapless apes who might stumble upon them as they investigated the ship.

Vastra had carried her lover back to the Captain's cabin and laid her gently in the small cot before returning to the hold. There she collected the strange artefact and carefully stowed the evil little relic back in its housing. On her way to the upper deck Vastra had collected clothing and money from the various cabins, shoving them all into a large chest that she had liberated from the hold. They served to cushion the restless movement of what also lay within.

The chest, Jenny- now wrapped in what few dry blankets could be found - and every money pouch Vastra had found in her petty thieving were safely placed in one of the lifeboats. The other had been holed from below by a heavy, serrated blade. With all of Vastra's rapidly waning strength, she had lowered the lifeboat over the side. Praying as it hit the water with rather more of a splash than she had intended, Vastra thanked the Goddess when it remained afloat. Then she cast one last look around the ravaged deck and dropped down.

Just in time, Vastra remembered, as there were vessels rapidly approaching from the nearby harbour. Her arms still ached from pulling hard around the vessel and bringing them to an abandoned part of New York's docks. From there, stolen disguise hastily donned, it was only a matter of finding suitable lodgings.

Vastra looked up from tending to her lover and sighed. The place was better than a flophouse but hardly a respectable establishment. Still, it was close to the docks, reasonably clean and the proprietress chose to ask the bare minimum of questions once a quantity of gold coin had been pressed into her palm. A few more and clean, if greying, sheets had appeared, more still and a tin pail large enough to serve as a bath had arrived as well.

And Jenny had slept, tossing and turning in a manner that had troubled her lover greatly. Vastra had not left the room for over a day, reading the Captain's logs when she was not fussing over Jenny or resting. When the thrashing had given way to a calmer, deeper rest, Vastra had forced herself out of the room. A few more coins had ensured that it would not be disturbed, allowing Vastra to return with provisions.

Then the waiting and research had resumed, though Vastra had a much clearer idea of what was going on, if not why. Her most recent excursion had answered some of that too and now she would wait with growing impatience for Jenny's waking.

"You alright, Madame?" a low, rough voice said.

Vastra looked back to the bed, startled that she had fallen into such a deep revelry. Jenny's dark eyes were open, the pupils stark against the pale skin. There was a twinkle in them though and Vastra felt something shift in her chest. She smiled and leaned down to drop a gentle kiss to the warm lips.

"My dear, how are you?" Jenny groaned as she attempted to sit up and Vastra's hand shot out to still her movement. "You have been asleep for some time and must remain still for a moment more."

Jenny gave a characteristic snort and Vastra laughed. "How long this time?" she asked cautiously, aware of the toll her body's reaction to stress could have on her lover.

"A little over two days."

"Sorry," a small hand burrowed out of the covers and pressed to Vastra's scales, "Didn't mean to scare you."

"I have used the time quite productively, my dear." To Jenny's raised brow, Vastra added, "and I believe that I have a sense of the situation as of now. Though I suspect that you might have a better idea of the historical facts. Yes?"

Jenny thought back to the visions that had overwhelmed her as she held the artefact. Thinking of the ugly little thing made her shiver and Vastra returned her arm to the covers and patted them down around her. Jenny wriggled a little but Vastra would not let go.

"I'm not a Mummy, Madame."

"I should hope not," Vastra's teeth flashed bright, "it would be most inconvenient in our relationship."

Jenny laughed and her skin took on more of its natural hue. Vastra eased her tight hold on the covers and helped Jenny to sit up. A glass of water appeared in her hand and Jenny sipped greedily at it before settling back into the pillow and staring at the room.

"You first, eh?" Vastra did as bidden and Jenny took it all in before recapping, "So this Wilcox bloke's an artist and a collector and now we've got his newest treasure?"

"Most succinctly put." Jenny looked around wildly and Vastra added quickly, "Though not here, my dear. I have secreted the artefact elsewhere."

"That's a relief," Jenny said and then as an after thought, "What is it with artists? Are they all bonkers?"

Vastra sighed, "You could be forgiven for thinking so."

"And his art, his own I mean, what's it like?"

"Somewhat outre, by all accounts."

Jenny considered the word, "You mean bloomin' odd, don't you Madame?"

"That would seem to be equally descriptive, yes. He appears to have had some sort of mental breakdown in his youth - a youth spent in the place from whence the cargo came, incidentally - and may not have fully recovered from that time. His art may represent that time or indeed what he saw during that time."

"He's a mad collector then," Jenny emphasised the 'mad' and added, "There seems to be a lot of them about."

"Rather more than is healthy in one race," Vastra smiled, the tension in her back easing at Jenny's increasing colour.

"We'll be off to see him then, Madame?" Vastra raised a brow and Jenny's colour darkened a little, "After I've told you what happened back in the hold, of course." Jenny explained the visions as best she could, aware again of the limitations of her vocabulary. She ended with, "But none of it felt like something outside of me. It was more like a memory but not my own. Like that thing," she waved her hands around vaguely, "stored them up for later. Would be handy really, if it wasn't for the whole mad priests and scary creatures thing."

Vastra was silent for a long moment and Jenny watched her face shift as she considered her words. After a while, Vastra said, "Perhaps that is what this Wilcox desires? To see the memories of," she trailed off.

"Something ugly and nasty and not very friendly either? Not sure why."

"Something that he worships, perhaps? There are such humans after all."

"Only one way to find out," Jenny said and freed herself from the covers, "Just give me ten minutes and something to eat and I'll be ready."

The something to eat was provided immediately, dense biscuits and cheese in a greasy wrapping being offered in place of the water.

Jenny was not allowed to rise though. Vastra stood and began to undress. Jenny grinned, "Something more pressing, Madame?"

Vastra's teeth flashed in a lascivious smile but she shook her head, "I require rest also. I have been researching extensively and have not slept for some time."

Jenny pouted, "I hope you're not thinking of sleeping on the floor," she said and held the covers up with her free hand.

Vastra fluttered her multiple eyelids in a strange approximation of the coquettish and said, "I most certainly do not."

* * *

It was another two days before the pair were ready to begin their investigation. They were refreshed and most certainly invigorated, though Vastra privately chastised herself for allowing their rest and then sport to delay them quite so long.

"Not regretting anything are you?" Jenny said as if reading her mind.

She was struggling to button up the dress that Vastra had acquired for her from the passenger's luggage. The thought of wearing a dead woman's clothes was sobering but, as Jenny reminded herself, hand-me-downs of many sorts had kept her clothed for much of her life. The little tin bath by the weak fire was a reminder of her old life too, though their reason for being here was far removed from that time.

"Most certainly not, my dear," Vastra said as she too fumbled with unfamiliar garb, "but we really must get on. You have eaten nothing substantial for some time and require a good meal. I admit, I am somewhat peckish myself."

Jenny refrained from making an off-colour jest and said, "What have you been eating then?" She paused when Vastra's cheeks darkened. "Madame! I hope he deserved it at least."

"He most certainly did. A thoroughly disagreeable man," Vastra rubbed her stomach and looked pained, "in both senses."

Jenny laughed and picked up the ugly carpet bag that Vastra insisted they must take with them. It had little additional weight, only a few necessaries that Vastra had packed under Jenny's confused gaze. Vastra's reminder that they must collect the artefact had done little to draw Jenny from the safety of her bed but drawn she had been and now Vastra pulled down her veil just as they stepped from the room.

Jenny's face fell when she saw the rest of their lodgings. Apparently her lover had done much by way of cleaning while Jenny lay unconscious and their room had been considerably improved by it. The building itself was an old, ramshackle place not very much better than Mrs Jenkins' boarding house. From the sounds that came through the thin walls as they hurried along the corridors and down the staircase, most of the occupants were partaking of the same activity that she and her lover had not too long before.

Jenny blushed at the thought and hurried on. Vastra was already at the bottom of the stairs but could go no further. She had been intercepted by a tall yet slight woman whose face had been ravished by some unfortunate event.

"Ah, Mrs Parker, my companion is much improved and we intend to take a little air," Vastra said.

"You'd be lucky to get a breath out there!" the woman said in a surprisingly loud voice.

Jenny had to concentrate to understand the heavily accented words. For the first time in this whole strange adventure, she felt out of place. Odd, she thought, that you could feel more foreign on your own planet.

To the woman she said, "Is there a problem?"

The woman tilted her head and studied her with one small but piercing eye. She gave a harrumph, glanced accusingly at Vastra and only then responded, "That damned weather's come ashore. Never seen anything like it; half the docks been shut down."

"Which half, pray?" Vastra said.

"Pray? Pray! You damn well should pray, lady."

"As indeed I do, Mrs Parker," Vastra said and calmly handed over a fistful of gold. The woman's expression softened immediately, a little sigh escaping her lips as she counted the coins. "Yet we really must go out. Our room will be undisturbed when we return, yes?"

"Gave my word, didn't I? Keeps my word, don't I?"

"I have no doubt you do."

And with that, Vastra eased aside the housekeeper and made for the door. Jenny bobbed a half-hearted curtsey, which earned her another loud harrumph and then hurried to catch up.

Mrs Parker had not been exaggerating and the weather beyond was truly awful. Awful, Jenny realised in the same way that it had been on the ship. They stood in an eerie light that itself wrapped around a darker, shifting area of roaring winds and gusting rain. Looking up, Jenny saw the effect was something like a tunnel turned on its side. She had not seen the ship's plight from the outside but this must have been how it appeared from shore.

"The weather," Vastra said, "has been worsening for the past few days."

"And it'll be centred about where you buried that thing, won't it Madame?"

"It would," Vastra allowed as she shepherded Jenny through the oddly deserted streets. "From the Captain's writings and what I have been able to learn from the local sailors, such weather patterns follow the artefact wherever it goes. It certainly followed the poor Captain on his short journey."

"But the village I saw, they had calm weather. In my vision I mean. The sun was good and bright, even if the place was dark as sin." Vastra considered her lover for a moment, surprised by the choice of words. Jenny shrugged, "In a manner of speaking."

"Indeed. I can only surmise that the artefact causes such difficulties only when it is unattended, as it were."

"It needs fools to worship it?"

"Quite, my dear, and it would appear that the human race has more than its far share of such creatures."

"So what else have you learned then?"

An errant gust of wind knocked Jenny off her stride. Vastra was immediately at her elbow and she took the proffered arm gratefully.

"You are still weak, Jenny, I should not have -"

"Don't you start mithering me, thank you very much. Just you tell me the rest of it. I've a terrible sense that this will get worse before it gets better and I don't need any vision to tell me that."

They walked on in silence for a little way. Vastra eased them through the narrow alleys until they were in a more open area that housed offices of various nautical matters. There were a few eateries too and Vastra lead Jenny into one. The place had no other patrons but one very worried looking owner who was pathetically gratefully for their custom. Jenny beamed at the man and he brightened in turn, lavishing them with attention as they ordered a meal that contained surprisingly large portions.

"Now, Madame, tell me more about this Wilcox and why we should risk taking that thing to him."

They spoke in hushed tones despite their isolation while their food was consumed with some gusto by Jenny and rather more consideration by her companion. Jenny's eyes proved at least as big as her belly and she finished both meals before declaring herself quite pleased with the feast.

The owner beamed as they left his establishment and stepped back out into the ominous light. Vastra recounted the last of her investigations and Jenny considered as they walked further away from the boarding house and into the heart of the troubled weather.

"So his company don't have the foggiest, pardon the pun, about this business? That's a heck of a secret to keep but I suppose those rich recluses can get away with it," Jenny thought for a few moments and then said, "Do you really think we can persuade him to help us and not just take this thing away?"

Vastra flashed a dangerous smile, her teeth shining in the increasing darkness, "I believe with our combined talents, we may be able to do so."

"You don't like those sort of tactics, remember," Jenny warned.

"I do not, I admit, but I am not above the use of a little coercion in such dire circumstances."

Jenny grimaced at the choice of words but could not argue with the sentiment. Vastra waved her to a halt, handed over the bag and then stepped through a narrow gap between two rickety buildings. Jenny kept a careful look out but there was no one around. They'd barely seen another living soul since they left the boarding house and no-one since the restaurant. The place looked and felt like a ghost town and that idea did not help Jenny's mood at all.

Much shuffling and bumping issued from the hiding place and then Vastra returned, her coat dirtied somewhat but her hands full of a heavily wrapped parcel. Jenny opened the bag, snapping it shut again once Vastra had eased her cargo inside. The bag almost fell from her hand despite a tight grip, the statuette seeming to add tonnes to the weight. Vastra quickly took the handle from her and hefted the bag with grunt before leading them back to their lodgings.

"What now then, Madame?" Jenny asked as they walked.

The inky light seemed to shift and warp around them, the tunnel of troubled weather following them as they walked. There was a charge in the air. Jenny thought it felt like standing too close to one of those funny machines that they showed off at the great fairs.

"I believe we will require a carriage to take us to the Wilcox estate. One with a trustworthy driver."

A carriage was found and the driver so handsomely reimbursed for his time that he was quite sympathetic to their requirements. The horses were duly whipped into a decent pace and Vastra and Jenny found themselves safely ensconced in a sound, if not entirely commodious, seat.

Jenny watched, fascinated as the docks gave way to tenements that looked not unlike those back home before they gave way to impressive brown stone buildings and on to the even more impressive sight of New York's heartland.

Vastra enjoyed the view too, though she was more distracted by her thoughts and by the itching sensation that the contents of her bag were causing in the carriage. She had insisted that it should remain with them when the driver tried to prise the handle from her grasp but now she regretted her decision.

"Why don't you just kick it under the seat," Jenny indicated the opposite bench, "it's driving you spare, Madame."

Vastra gave a faint nod, pleased and disturbed in equal parts by her lover's ability to read her mind. She gave the carpet bag a push with her foot until it was stowed away. The static around them eased just a little, though it was obvious that the troubled weather was following even this far from the shore. The horses were skittish too and their vehicle jerked with the poor creatures twitchy movements.

The women went back to their thoughts until, quite out of the blue, Vastra said, "I believe we require more assistance."

"Here? How would we do that?"

"Not here, no, but when we return home. Archie is most effective but he cannot be everywhere and I believe he might appreciate some assistance."

"Archie's Army?" Jenny laughed.

Vastra considered for a moment and said, "The Paternoster Irregulars, perhaps?"

"Oh, I like that. Yes, I'll see what I can do when we get back."

With a nod and an, "Excellent," Vastra considered the matter closed and went back to her contemplations. Jenny studied her for a moment, aware that the past few days - or was it weeks, she really had no idea - had been particularly stressful on the normally resilient Silurian.

She fished in her sadly depleted pockets and pulled out one of the many coins that they had taken from the ship. Vastra had been liberal with their application in pursuit of Jenny's comfort but they still had quite a stock. Vastra had said that the old woman at the boarding house had not been surprised to see the strange coins. There had been quite a few making the rounds amongst the city's lower sort. Somebody had been greasing palms, largely in and around the docks.

Jenny played the coin in her palm, considering each side. Solid gold, no doubt, but they really were quite ugly little discs. Decorated with imagines not far removed from the horrible object in the bag, they made Jenny uncomfortable and she wrapped her hand around the coin as if it might attempt an escape.

She was still clutching it when the carriage slowed and turned into a long, winding road that gave way to a track. It was not the grand entrance to an estate that you found in England and Jenny was disappointed by it. Vastra noted the difference too but she was more concerned. The track felt like a warning to the unwary traveller rather than a design flaw.

The carriage bounced and swayed on until the driver slowed the tired horses and they came to an uncomfortable halt outside high, imposing gates. Vastra reached for the bag before she opened her door and dropped down unaided. The driver looked most put out and handed Jenny from the same door with a flourish.

"Thank you kindly," Jenny said and added, "Probably best you wait here, eh?" with a nod to the large, annoyed looking man who had appeared on the other side of the thick black bars of the gate.

Vastra was already there and greeted the man formally. He did not appear overly surprised at her accent and merely said, "No visitors, ladies."

"We wish to speak with Mr Henry Wilcox, my good man," Vastra said and the man's face soured even more.

Jenny winced and said, "What Madame Vastra means to say, Sir, is that we have something that Mr Wilcox will certainly want to see."

The man's eyes darted down to the bag and then returned to Jenny's deliberately innocent face for a moment before flicking back to Vastra.

"I doubt that very much, Miss. Now, if you'd like to leave, ladies."

It was not a question but Vastra answered it anyway, "We would not."

Jenny winced again. She feared this would not end well and considered showing the man exactly what was in the bag but thought better of it. Instead she eased Vastra aside and held up the coin.

"Would this help, Sir?" she didn't think he was the sort to be bribed but it was worth a try.

The man's eyes widened as he considered the coin. Without another word he began the laborious process of opening the gate. The man hadn't taken the coin, merely stared at it and that left Jenny blinking in surprise. She looked up to Vastra, who appeared more relieved than startled.

Vastra flashed a grateful smile to her lover before accepting the man's suddenly obsequious invitation to enter. Jenny followed and offered the coin to him by way of gratuity. He stepped back from her proffered hand, a flash of panic on his face before he gave a definite shake of the head and turned to lock the gate behind them.

They waited a moment until he indicated that they should follow him up what was now a neatly laid, though still understated pathway. Tall trees lined their route so that they could see little until the path began to widen and the trees thin. As they neared, a relatively newly-built mansion house came into view.

It was nicely appointed but had little of the character of such homes in England. It was set in wide grounds that stretched out to the sweeping line of trees on one side of the estate and an expanse of water on the other. A jetty ran alongside, a landing for much larger vessels than would be expected for such a place.

The house itself was surrounded by a gravel path and strange statues were dotted around in lieu of flora. Jenny eyed the pieces, shivering at the sight of more than one. Vastra walked close to her as they crunched their way across the gravel and up to the large black door, both women regretting their ill-fitting shoes.

The man yanked at a long bell pull and a clanking sound came from within. It was answered by an ancient butler of such decrepitude that Jenny felt an urge to hurry to his aid. The gate-man waved them into the butler's care with a look of relief and hurried away from the house without a word.

"Ladies?" the old butler inquired. Jenny flashed the coin at him and he gave a long, low, "Ah," before stepping aside to beckon them in.

Vastra went first, keeping a firm grip on the carpet bag even as the butler attempted to take it from her. Another, "Ah," answered the gesture and they walked on in silence through the high-ceilinged entrance hall.

It was more gallery than mansion, the walls crammed with bas-relief of strange visions. Some looked familiar to Jenny and she tensed as she studied them. Vastra put a comforting hand on her arm and hoped that it would serve to calm her companion. There was certainly something unpleasant about the place but she found Jenny's reaction even more unsettling.

"Brave heart, my dear," Vastra whispered.

Jenny forced a smile and nodded, "Brave heart, Madame."

The butler struggled to open the doors to what proved to be a nicely decorated reception room and indicated that they should take their seats. He once again attempted to free Vastra of the bag, though he had made no move to divest them of their coats.

Vastra hissed at the man through her veil and he skittered back in surprise. His expression turned to weary understanding and Vastra's fear increased. Just what had this wizened old ape seen in his lifetime? And just what had his master added to that list?

Vastra had no time to consider further for just as the old man was backing out of the room, a young man appeared behind him. He spoke a few quiet words to the butler, instructing him to have the rest of the household return to their cottages. The butler did not appear surprised by the order but merely nodded and left.

The young man stood in the doorway and considered the two women before stepping forward and saying, "I am Henry Wilcox. And you are?" without preamble.

Jenny stood, offered the man a vague curtsey and looked to Vastra. She remained seated, the bag at her feet, one hand lingering above the handle.

"I am Madame Vastra and this is my colleague, Miss Jenny Flint. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Wilcox."

She did not offer her hand and neither did Wilcox. His small head tilted thoughtfully, pale eyes narrowing as they flicked between the women. Both had the sense that he knew their names. Apparently their reputation had spread far and wide. That thought troubled Vastra greatly, though Jenny appeared to be quite bolstered by the idea.

"And in there?" he said, his eyes falling on the bag.

Now Vastra stood to her full height, the bag left at her feet, "We believe that you may be missing a certain," she paused in an unusually dramatic manner, "objet d'art, Mr Wilcox. One with very particular significance?"

Wilcox blinked, hope - or joy, or lust, neither woman could be sure - bringing his entire face to life. He looked less the austere gentleman that he had on entering the room and more a little boy with his heart set on a new toy. His spare frame seemed to swell and his back straighten. It was ecstasy, Vastra thought, like some sort of religious rapture had overtaken him. She had seen it amongst the more devout adherents of her own faith and amongst many of the apes too. It could lead Silurian and Human alike into a great deal of woe.

"Would you like a tour of the place?" Wilcox said and turned to lead them out of the room before either woman could answer.

Jenny blinked up at Vastra, startled by the sudden change in his mood. Vastra gave a faint shrug, hefted the bag and offered her other arm to Jenny. They processed across the hall and into a large, bright room that ran along the entire length of the house. It was a library of immense proportions with high, wide windows giving a good view of the water beyond.

The shelves were lined with books, many of them very old, and any wall space not shelved held glass cases like those of a museum. It reminded Jenny of the Borlsover's library when first they had arrived at Paternoster Row. The thought was reinforced when she glanced at a few of the books. Any one of them might have featured in Eustace Borlsover's collection.

Wilcox said nothing, his eyes still bright as he watched the two women consider some of his most prized possessions. Vastra was aware that those same eyes always dropped back to the bag, as if the man were concerned that it might disappear in an instant.

She too looked around the room, the same wary realisation coming to her as to Jenny. Blessedly, Wilcox appeared not to have quite such dangerous books as those of the late Eustace Borlsover but he certainly had a wide interest. There were a number of tomes by the mad missionary Sigismund Cartwright and a great many other texts along the same lines.

Vastra heard the gasp from her companion and was at Jenny's side immediately. She stood before one of the large display cases, one with a prominent place in the room despite containing a very old, very rough manuscript. The pages were thin and torn, bound together in a skin of some kind but held in place more by the case itself than any craftsmanship of the book's creator.

Vastra touched Jenny's arm gently and looked through the lace of her veil, hoping that her concern would communicate itself despite the material. It did, as always with her lover and Jenny gave a little nod and whispered, "Saw that on the ship, Madame."

"On the," Vastra began but then realised her lover's meaning.

So this was the manuscript that Jenny's monk had illuminated and the soldier's accomplice had carried? Vastra leaned in to the case and studied the papers as best she could. Through the stains of ages only some of the faded text could be made out. What little Vastra could see gave her greater concern. It was written in a script or cypher so foreign as to be gibberish to her eyes. Vital gibberish, though, of that Vastra was sure.

"I thought you might be interested in that," Wilcox said, "The last surviving copy of what may be the most important text in the study of these things."

"These things, Sir?" Jenny said.

Wilcox smiled, "I doubt I must say more, Miss Flint. You are aware of the import of the object you claim," his eyes dropped to the bag greedily, "to have?"

"I believe we may have some experience of such things," Vastra allowed.

She would have said more but Wilcox interrupted, "Please don't misunderstand me, Madame Vastra. I am not of the same ilk as Professor Borlsover." Both women started at the name and Wilcox explained, "I do not worship these so-called Gods as those madmen do, I assure you. Rather I have an artistic interest, not a religious mania."

You could have fooled me, Jenny thought and knew that Vastra was of the same mind. You could see it in the man's eyes, even if he couldn't see it in the mirror. He was obsessed and obsession was at least as dangerous as religious mania, particularly when it involved anything that had resided at the Borlsover residence.

"Then you simply wish to use the artefact's remarkable powers?" Vastra hedged, "As of a reference?"

Wilcox beamed, "I have the perfect spot for it," he said before leading them to the far end of the library, "This is a library after all, what better place to keep such a library of the imagination?"

He stopped where the shelves and tables gave way to an ornately curtained area. When Wilcox pulled the heavy material back it revealed an open space with a large easel set in a bay window, a pedestal beside it. A low stand held the brushes and other tools an artist would need to work on a sizeable canvas.

"The artefact is a repository of," Vastra hesitated, "memories?"

"Dreams, I believe, the dreams of men and of other beings. Perhaps even the dreams of the greatest being of all. Many years ago I was struck down with a fever of some severity. I experienced such dreams as to shape my art for a lifetime."

"But now you want more?" Jenny said.

"I find that a lifetime's worth of dreams cannot be measured. I learned first of this particular treasure when I studied with a Sumatran Priest during my travels in the Orient. He assured me that such dreams as true art are made of exist only in the heart of it."

Completely bonkers, Jenny thought but she said, "And the poor souls on the Star Of Mauritius?"

"A terrible loss and not at all what I would have wished. I admit, I should have travelled to collect the piece myself," he shook his head sadly, "I assure you, ladies, I will make reparations to the families of all affected."

Vastra considered the man through the heavy material of her veil. He certainly believed what he said but of course he would, anyone infected with such a terrible malady as blind faith could be utterly convincing. She glanced around the library, her eyes lingering on the ancient manuscript in pride of place on the wall.

Her research and what little she had learned during and since their first encounter with the Borlsover family had convinced her that such artefacts could be controlled by the correct means. They must find those means and this man - as mad as he might be - was their only hope so far from home.

With a little nod of decision, she reached down and opened the bag. "Madame!" Jenny hissed and Vastra struggled momentarily to ignore her lover's worried tone. The artefact must be deactivated in whatever manner was necessary and that, Vastra knew, would require that they take a risk. Alas, it was a risk that might destroy them all.

"Mr Wilcox, I believe you know what this is," she said as she hefted the artefact from the bag, dropped the handle and used her other hand to unwrap it.

Wilcox could barely hold back his excitement, his eyes widening until they seemed to be nothing but white in a pale face that was painted with ecstasy. Jenny tensed, her hands clasped at her side, her whole body ready to dash the evil little thing to the ground. But Vastra obviously had a plan and she could only hope that whatever the plan required would come about before any unfortunate visitors arrived.

Vastra held the artefact in her palm, offering it to Wilcox with a keen gaze. She could feel it begin to twitch in her hand, her scales shifting uncomfortably beneath it. Her eyes darted to Jenny, seeing the tension but relieved to see no signs of the visions that had affected her on the ship. There was always the possibility that her beloved companion was now linked to the thing in some way and that could be a terrible complication.

Jenny remained ramrod straight and tensed for action. Wilcox fairly floated the few steps to reach out and with the most reverent of expressions, place his hands under the statuette. Jenny thought that he looked like a proud father picking up his newborn babe for the first time and it sickened her even more. Memories of the child on the beach came to her mind and she had to force them back to remain focused on what was happening in the room.

Vastra came to Jenny's side and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. They stood together and watched as Wilcox held the object in his arms much as the priest in the caves. He looked down upon it and sighed deeply, a life's work fulfilled in that one moment.

The women forgotten, he began to mutter something. Jenny thought that it might be the words of a father to a child but then realised that the air was becoming uncomfortable with the rising charge of the hold. As Wilcox turned to the curtained area she glanced through the large windows and saw that the skies above were changing. The eerie light of their journey now gave way to the unnatural darkness of the ship.

"Madame," Jenny hissed again.

"Remain calm, my dear," Vastra said, aware that she was risking everything now, "If he can activate the device, I believe he can deactivate it too."

"I hope you're right."

As indeed do I, Vastra thought but she said nothing. Wilcox was standing in the window now, back to them and arms raised along with his voice. His chant was loud and firm, his thin arms strong as they hoisted the statuette above his head as if presenting it to the troubled skies.

Through the window, Vastra noticed that a number of members of his staff had come out of their cottages to stare in fear. Not all were looking up though, with many staring in horror at the water below them. Vastra could not see what troubled them so but her scales flared in reaction.

Suddenly the sky dropped to a thick, inky black and then broke in huge lightning strikes that captured the scene below in flashes of fiery red light. The staff panicked, some running back to their cottages, others abandoning their posts and heading for the gates. Behind them the water was churning so badly that the waves could be seen even from the house. The previously placid shore roiled and spat, frothy flecks of a sickly green substance splashing into the air and crashing to the land.

Wilcox's words faltered and Jenny thought the man had finally come to what was left of his senses. She took a step forward, only to realise that he was still chanting but now in a voice so weakened as to be barely audible. His arms no longer appeared strong, his whole body sagging beneath the ever-growing weight of the pulsating object.

He gave a long hiss of pain, his arms shaking visibly but remaining aloft. Jenny shook off Vastra's arm and ran to him. She gave a gasp of horror as she rounded on the man and took a look at his face.

Where it had been pale and thin, now it was ashen and drawn. His eyes were filled with blood that trickled down his cheeks like tears. His mouth kept chanting but seemingly despite himself. He struggled to turn towards Jenny, his breathing coming in rapid little pants like a wounded animal.

"Let go, Sir!" she shouted but received only a blank stare.

Beneath the cacophony of screaming people, violent seas and lightning it was hard to hear his words but his lips still twitched. His arms were sinking now, dropping despite the artefact's control. In one slow, surprisingly fluid motion Wilcox crumpled to the floor. The ugly little statue glowed and pulsed angrily where it fell at his side.

Both women eased away from it as they crouched to tend to the man. His face was drenched with blood as it seeped from his eyes and mouth. His breaths were shallow and irregular, more gasps than pants. Yet even through the intense red of his own lifeforce, there was a look of such sad realisation in his eyes that Jenny could have wept for the man. She placed a gentle hand to his face, ignoring both the warm stickiness of the blood and the hiss of warning from her lover.

Vastra watched as Jenny leaned over the man, bending close to his face for a moment before looking up in surprise. "My dear," Vastra said, half in fear, half in question.

Before Jenny could answer to either, Wilcox gave one long, shuddering breath and fell still. Both women looked outside hopefully but the sky remained black and the water still roiled audibly. Beside them there was no change to the artefact, it pulsed with an angry light that matched the lightning that threatened to strike the house itself. It seemed to grow and contract with each pulse, its colour shifting through some unnatural range that hurt their eyes.

"The book," Jenny said, remembering Wilcox's gasped words, "The book, Madame, he said to look in there."

Vastra rose and turned for the case in one movement, she rushed across the library and punched through the glass without thought for her own flesh. Shards tinkled around her and Vastra flicked the glass and blood from her hand before reaching in and yanking the manuscript from its perch. She struggled to keep the unbound pages in her grasp and hurried back.

Dropping back to the floor, she shed the armful of papers around them and rummaged through. Her movements were unusually frantic and Jenny understood why. There were large, oddly shaped creatures shambling up from the shore. They had cut down the members of staff who had remained by their cottages and now they were marching towards the house. Despite the darkness Jenny was sure they were the same green, scaly creatures she had seen in her visions. In the flashes of lightning that illuminated the area every few seconds now, she could certainly see the large blades that they all held aloft.

"Madame," Jenny said, aware of her lover's rising panic and more disturbed by it than the creatures themselves, "Madame, easy now. What do we need to do?"

Vastra looked up, seeing the faith in those beloved eyes and taking strength from it. She glanced down at the artefact as it shifted and shimmered in the half light. Looking back at the manuscript Vastra knew what must be done. Goddess forgive her but it was the only way.

Vastra gathered the pages together as best she could and placed Wilcox's limp but still warm hand atop them. She thought there may be the very last essence of life left in the man and hoped she was correct. Dragging the unfathomably heavy object across the carpet, she manoeuvred it closer to Jenny's side.

"Forgive me, Jenny," Vastra said, all of her fear evident in the tone, "but I must ask you to do this."

Jenny looked from Vastra to the evil little thing and then to Wilcox and shivered as she realised what was required of her. Without further comment - for what could she say? - she lifted both hands. One dropped to Wilcox's cheek and the other, more reluctantly, to the artefact.

The former was sticky with drying blood but Jenny ignored the sensation as she ignored the tide of revulsion that ran up her other arm. The artefact was slippery to her touch, the shape twisting as if attempting to free itself from her grasp. It was hot, then cold; soft, then hard; repulsive, then welcoming. At the last moment Vastra's hands gripped her face, long fingers pressing into Jenny's temples.

The visions chased through their minds, too many to be truly aware of but all with an overwhelming sense of evil. Visions of long forgotten creatures and far off places; visions of darkness and fear pervading the light of the world. And then they blurred and warped into a childhood of privilege and happiness; the depths of fever with dark dreams at least as terrifying as the visions themselves; and then a life spent in travel and art only occasionally troubled by the demands of commerce.

It all flashed by in seconds, registering only as moments caught as in a daguerreotype, until suddenly it came into sharp relief. A world of heat and colour, strange men in stranger garb who spoke in a tongue that Jenny did not know and yet understood. One was teaching a chant, calling out the words in a slow, sonorous tone and waiting as it was recited back to him.

Jenny heard a far off voice that sounded familiar. It was chanting the same strange words in a low but confident tone. The chant repeated without pause but not in the vision. The teacher was now talking about art but his words were fading as was the vision itself. Jenny tried to focus but it faded still. She felt herself fading with it. Or was that the life that cooled beneath her hand?

"Jenny!" came faint through the darkness and suddenly she was being shaken violently. The visions snapped closed like a book and then a bright light burned her eyes.

"Jenny, can you hear me?"

"Of course I can, you're shouting loud enough to wake the dead."

"Hardly," came the relieved but whispered response, "How are you feeling? Pray, open your eyes, my dear."

Jenny blinked hard as her eyes opened. She winced but the brightness soon faded to a more comfortable light and she smiled into the concerned face of her lover. Vastra sat back a little and gave a sigh, though she said nothing while Jenny took a moment to get her bearings once more.

"It worked then?"

"Extremely well, my dear."

Outside the light was a more natural afternoon glow and the water beyond the lawn was quiet and apparently still. As, alas, were the bodies that littered the area. There was no sign of the large, scaly creatures but there were tracks gauged deep where they had lumbered across the grass both towards and then away from the house.

Jenny looked down at Wilcox and knew that he was now quite dead. She reached out and eased his eyelids closed as gently as she could manage. Finally she forced herself to look to the statuette. It was still now, a dull sort of green colour in a crudely carved shape. There remained an air of evil about it and Jenny wanted to find a hammer and smash the thing to smithereens.

"I believe it may be best if we destroyed the ghastly thing," Vastra said.

Jenny gave a snort of mirthless laughter and said, "You read my mind, Madame." She paused, glancing back to Wilcox for a moment, and added sadly, "And his, I suppose."


End file.
